There was a yelp from the far end of the hall and Vespasian heard the sound of someone being dragged forward.
‘This boy swore when he reported you that he had overheard you and your companions planning my assassination as I entered the city yesterday.’
Vespasian kept his eyes to the floor but guessed that Bagoas had been dragged in. ‘How could he? He speaks no Greek and only one of my companions speaks Aramaic. I can only imagine that he made up that falsehood in order to make himself seem more important so as to get a greater reward.’
There was a pause as the Great King considered Vespasian’s words.
‘Can anyone here vouch for this Roman?’ Vologases’ voice echoed around the hall and faded into silence.
That silence held, still and clear.
And then, from the far end of the chamber, it was shattered.
‘I can, Light of the Sun.’
Vespasian did not recognise the voice nor could he see the speaker as he was still lying with his face down. He heard footsteps walk the length of the hall and was aware of the whimpering of Bagoas somewhere behind him; a sharp slap silenced the boy.
The footsteps stopped next to him; in the corner of his vision, he saw a man, dressed in the Persian manner. He began to bow and then carried on until he was on his knees with his forehead touching the floor; but he did not stop there and, with remarkable elegance, the movement continued until he was flat on his belly, his lips kissing the floor before his Great King and his hands palms down either side of his face.
‘Your name?’ Vologases’ voice betrayed a hint of surprise.
‘Gobryas, Light of the Sun.’
‘You may get to your knees and speak, Gobryas.’
Gobryas raised himself gracefully. ‘I’m honoured, Light of the Sun.’ He paused to compose himself, taking a couple of breaths as if calming galloping nervousness. ‘Just over fourteen years ago a caravan came in from Alexandria; it carried the normal goods that you would expect coming from the Roman province of Egypt. However, there was one item that had been entrusted to the caravan’s owner by his cousin, the Alabarch of the Alexandrian Jews. It was for my father, whose name I bear; it was a box and inside this box there was gold, a lot of gold. There was also a letter telling my father of the life of his youngest son, my brother, Ataphanes. Fifteen years a slave with a Roman family and then subsequently a freedman in their service for nearly the same duration. During that time he amassed a small fortune. When he died, in the service of the family who had owned him and freed him, he asked his patrons to send his fortune back to his family here in Ctesiphon. The Roman family must be truth-speakers because, despite the very obvious temptation to keep a dead man’s gold to themselves, they did return it.’
There were murmurs of agreement from all sides of the hall.
Vespasian lay, hardly daring to breathe as he listened to the voice of the stranger who was saving his life.
‘Yesterday morning a rumour came to my ears that there had been some people, foreigners, looking around the great market for a family of spice traders whose youngest son, Ataphanes, had been killed in the service of one of your predecessors. At first I thought that these people couldn’t be looking for me because my brother was enslaved, not killed. However, I then realised that until the letter arrived we had no idea that Ataphanes had been in captivity, we had thought him dead; we had not told our acquaintances the shameful truth once we found out – who would admit to having a slave in the family? I admit it now only to defend a man in whose debt I find myself. These foreigners were being considerate; they didn’t bandy about the word “slave”, they understood our sensitivity. When I heard that some foreigners had been apprehended in an attempt to do harm to your person and that one of them was a Roman by the name of Titus Flavius Vespasianus I knew that they were the same people; and so I decided to exercise my right as head of the Ctesiphon Guild of Spice Merchants to attend your court and fight the Lie with Truth.’
Vespasian’s mind was filled with prayers of thanks to his guardian god Mars and the chief god of the Zoroastrian religion, Ahura Mazda, who abjures the Lie.
‘You speak forcefully for this man, Gobryas,’ Vologases said after a few moments in thought. ‘How can we be sure that there is no mistake or confusion after all this time?’
‘Because, Light of the Sun, I still have the letter that came with my brother’s gold. I have it here and it is signed by Titus Flavius Vespasianus.’
Vespasian saw from the corner of his eye a man walking forward from the dais, take the folded letter that Gobryas proffered and with great reverence hand it to Vologases.